The Road Not Taken
by Liber Fatum
Summary: The story of what might have been had Lord Eddard acted differently after receiving Robert's will. Massively AU. A Song of Ice and Fire. George RR Martin.


**EDDARD**

Lord Renly glanced warily at Ser Boros on the far end of the span, at Ser Preston in the doorway behind them. "That letter." He leaned close. "Was it the regency? Has my brother named you Protector?" He did not wait for a reply. "My lord, I have thirty men in my personal guard, and other friends beside, knights and lords. Give me an hour, and I can put a hundred swords in your hand."

"And what should I do with a hundred swords, my lord?"

"_Strike!_ Now, while the castle sleeps." Renly looked back at Ser Boros again and dropped his voice to an urgent whisper. "We must get Joffrey away from his mother and take him in hand. Protector or no, the man who holds the king holds the kingdom. We should seize Myrcella and Tommen as well. Once we have her children, Cersei will not dare oppose us. The council will confirm you as Lord Protector and make Joffrey your ward."

Ned regarded him coldly. "Robert is not dead yet. The gods may spare him. If not, I shall convene the council to hear his final words and consider the matter of succession, but I will not dishonour his last hours on earth by shedding blood in his halls and dragging frightened children from their beds."

Lord Renly took a step back, taut as a bowstring. "Every moment you delay gives Cersei another moment to prepare. By the time Robert dies, it may be too late…for both of us."

"Then we should pray that Robert does not die."

"Small chance of that," said Renly.

"Sometimes the gods are merciful."

"The Others take your gods, Stark! And your damned honour, too!" Renly snapped back at him. "Do you think that Cersei will give a shit about_ honour_ when she is done with you? She'll wipe her behind with that rag and piss over your children's grave when she is done."

Tersely, he moved over to Ned and whispered, "He _told_ me, _the Spider_, in many words of the sort. This, all this _madness_, is her doing."

His words made Ned hot and cold all over. Unbidden, Cersei Lannister's words in the godswood returned to him. _When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die_, she said. Ned had no taste for intrigues, and there was no honour in threatening children, and yet the question she posed towards him that accursed day haunted him.

_You love your children, do you not?  
_

* * *

"My lords, forgive me this summoning of the council, this late at night. We have urgent work that must be done." 

The small council sat before him. Grand Maester Pycelle sat bleary-eyed and still befuddled by sleep. Littlefinger, as always, was bright-eyed and sly, but for now wisely kept his quips with him. _Thank the gods._ For the most of them, however, were alert and almost expectant of him.

Ned drew a breath and began.

"In light of recent developments, His Grace has drawn up his will should the gods will that he pass away." Ned paused. "My lords, I have in my hands his will signed and sealed by his hand, and witness by Grand Maester Pycelle and Lord Renly, both esteemed members of the small council." He raised the parchment high for all to see. _My fate, my children's fate as well as that of the Realm rests in a piece of parchment. And the hand that holds the parchment is mine; the Hand of the King._ If he were elsewhere but here, Ned would have let out a bitter chuckle.

Grand Maester Pycelle nodded sagely. "It is indeed the will of the King, my lords. No doubt about that."

Ser Barristan chose the opportune moment to speak up. "Where is Lord Renly, my lord Hand? Surely he would not miss this meeting, what with such an important matter at hand?"

"No doubt he is off on the Hand's business, my lords. There should be no need to worry of him," the eunuch tittered softly. His eyes, however, gleamed knowingly.

"King's business, actually," Ned corrected coldly. _You know, don't you? But then, you must know that we do this for the knowledge that you whispered into our ears. You, also, are part of this._ "There will be no need to trouble over Lord Renly," Ned announced to the council.

"Well, if it is _King's_ business, as the Hand may so assure us, then I suppose it should be quite pleasant indeed. Why, Lord Renly might even get distracted while carrying out this _King's_ business…." Littlefinger's smiled insinuatingly. "Or maybe not, considering…"

Ned looked sharply at the man who simply shrugged and let it lie. Renly's…_interests_, as Ned had discovered only a short while ago, was shocking indeed, considering who his brother was.

But, more important were the matters at hand.

Ned cleared his throat. "I come before the council to deliver King Robert's will. He had commanded that I do so after my meeting him." _There it was again. The deceit…made him feel soiled._ Ned forced down the wave of revulsion that threatened to overflow. _The children…Arya, Sansa, Bran, Robb and Rickon…and Catelyn…For them. I do it for them. _With a jolt, he remembered Jon. _For him, too._

Ned passed the scroll to Pycelle who broke the seal and read the King's will in a thin, quivery voice.

"This is the will and word of Robert of House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. I do hereby command Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King, to serve as Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm upon my death, to rule in my stead, until my heir does come of age. I charge him to protect and defend the realm and my heir, and to rule with fairness and justice. Done in the sight of the old gods and the new."

The Grand Maester stopped. "It is indeed the King's signature," he said carefully. He was clearly uncomfortable with the revelations of the will. Ned silently made up his mind to watch out for that one.

The will passed hands as each councilor took their turn to carefully scrutinize the will. Ned held his breath all the while. His fate hung at this moment.

Old Ser Barristan Selmy was the first. "I consent and agree," said he.

Lord Varys was the next. He giggled softly before saying, "I consent."

Lord Petyr Baelish looked up startled. "Why, my lords, I did not think this would be such an issue. _Of course_, I consent," he said with a sly smile.

Grand Maester Pycelle was the last. Ponderously, he too gave his consent. He then deliberately began to record the meeting.

Ned gave an inward sigh of relief and smiled. "Good work, my lords and good night."

_In the game of thrones, you win, or you die.  
_

* * *

**The Road Not Taken**

_Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
And sorry I could not travel both  
And be one traveller, long I stood  
And looked down one as far as I could  
To where it bent in the undergrowth;_

_Then took the other, as just as fair,  
And having perhaps the better claim,  
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;  
Though as for that the passing there  
Had worn them really about the same,_

_And both that morning equally lay  
In leaves no step had trodden black.  
Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
I doubted if I should ever come back._

_I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference_

-by Robert Frost-

* * *

A/N: This is sort of my take on the What-if? What if Ned had taken to Renly's offer of help? What if Renly had the motive to be more persuasive of Ned? So, yeah. Its gonna be massively AU. This is sorta the prologue. Chapters after this will get much longer. 

Disclaimer: Of course, nothing belongs to me.


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